Unwilling Pawn by Measha Stone

Chapter 4

Amelia

“It’s not the end of the world, Amelia.” My father stabbed his fork into the pile of mashed potatoes on his dinner plate.

“How can you say that?” I fisted my hands in my lap. “I don’t like him. He’s your age.”

He cut a piece of steak and shoveled it into his mouth, chewing it while glaring at me.

“We’ve had this discussion too many times. You will marry Sebastian Gorecki because it benefits me, it benefits you. He’s a decent man with a powerful position in this city. You could do much worse.”

Christian Kaczmarek, for example. He could be described the same way, powerful, rich, but more dangerous, more intense. I’d be swallowed whole by him, chewed up and spit out when he was finished with me. My father was still intent on getting me married off to Sebastian, which meant Christian hadn’t reached out like he threatened. More arrogant smoke being blown into the wind.

“And the idea that I might be able to find my own husband? Has that occurred to you?” I asked, already knowing the answer. Because like he said, we’d had this conversation too many times.

“You haven’t dated anyone in over a year, Amelia.” He pointed his steak knife at me. “If you were interested in finding someone you would have. Though I doubt you would have found anyone acceptable.” He shrugged and went back to cutting into his medium rare meat.

“I haven’t dated anyone because I’ve been working and finishing up school,” I explained, a sense of urgency coming over me to plead my case. I never had much hope of being free to marry for pure love, my father never let me have such fantasies, but I had hoped to at least be in the same generation as my husband. Was it really so much to ask to like my husband, maybe even enjoy being in his company?

“Something I obviously shouldn’t have encouraged.” He nodded to himself while stuffing another piece of beef between his lips.

“Encouraged?” I sat back in my chair and stared at him. There hadn’t been a single semester of college that he didn’t grumble and tell me what a waste it was making another tuition payment. When I offered to pay my own way, he’d been even more hostile about it. How would it have looked for his daughter to work her way through college?

Me attending school had been theatrics for society, a show funded by my father and cast by myself. The fact I’d earned an actual degree that could turn into something useful was merely a coincidence, and one he hated being reminded of.

He sighed, resting his wrists on the edge of the table and leveled an exasperated look on me. “Your mother would agree with me if she were here.”

My teeth clenched behind my pinched lips. “Mom would have wanted me to be happy. I don’t think she’d want me to marry someone as old as Sebastian.” Or someone with such a dirty reputation, but I left that comment alone. It would only anger him and shut down the conversation.

“Your mother married me to better her family, to strengthen mine as well. When we married, we were able to merge our family businesses and become even more influential with city hall. And not once did she complain.”

I dropped my hands to my lap. “But was she happy?” I asked softly. I recalled lonely nights, and soft tears falling down her cheeks when she thought I couldn’t see her, or when she believed I was already asleep. She may never have said the words, but it was obvious. At least to anyone who cared enough to notice.

“What a stupid question. Of course she was.” He put his fork down and reached for his glass of merlot. “Your mother made a good life for us, and if she hadn’t fallen ill so young, we would have had a long and happy marriage.” He lowered his eyes as he drank his wine.

I wondered if he even recognized the lies as he spewed them.

“Give me a chance to make a better match. Someone who can offer you whatever Sebastian does, but is more my age.” And didn’t send the acid in my belly shooting up my throat every time I heard his voice.

Dad gulped down the last of his wine and put his glass down, all the while shaking his head. “No. Amelia, I don’t want to hear any more of this. The agreement has been made. Sebastian will be here this weekend to officially propose to you. An announcement will go out on Monday, and the wedding planning will begin. Now, no more.” He sank back into his chair, taking a long breath.

“You’re really going to make me do this?” I asked quietly, not really expecting an answer.

His fist landed on the table hard enough to rattle the plates and silverware.

“It’s done.”

“Mr. Dudek.” Maryellen, our housekeeper, slipped into the dining room. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but there is a gentleman here to see you. I explained you were not available, but he insisted.” Her voice trembled at the last bit, which made me turn in my chair toward her. She wrung her hands in front of her. Whoever was at the front door had startled her.

“Who is it?” Dad asked, running his finger over his teeth. It wouldn’t do to meet anyone with a piece of steak stuck between his teeth.

“Mr. Christian Kaczmarek.”

My heart skidded to a stop in my chest as the name sank into my mind.

“He’s early.” Dad shoved his chair from the table, quickly bounding up to his feet. “Show him into my office. I’ll be right there. Offer him a drink.” He waved his hands at Maryellen to get her moving.

“He’s in your office already, but I’ll make sure he has a refreshment.” Maryellen’s eyes flickered toward me, then away.

Dad grabbed his napkin from the table and wiped his face. “I wasn’t expecting him for another hour.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Dad.” I tucked my napkin beside my plate and moved to my feet.

“Right. Okay.” He patted his back pockets, then his front.

“He’s waiting,” I said when he looked stuck. I understood the feeling. Christian had that effect.

He brought his eyes to mine. “I’m not sure what he wants exactly, but he mentioned speaking to you as well. Go upstairs and change. Get out of those jeans.”

“Maybe he wants to marry me too.” I said, trying to make light of the storm brewing.

“Christian Kaczmarek?” Dad huffed. “I doubt it. He probably just wants to say hello. Be polite when you see him.” He shook a finger at me as though I were the same six-year-old girl who ruined his business calls by trying to climb into my daddy’s lap.

“You’re probably right,” I tried to put on a brave smile, the way I’d seen my mother do multiple times when I was younger.

He gave a curt nod and hurried from the dining room, shutting the door behind him. My phone buzzed from my pocket and I grabbed it.

Dancing?

A text from Maggie.

Maryellen entered the room again and began to clean up the table.

“I’ll do this,” I said to her, but she shooed me away.

“You have better things to do, Amelia.” She glanced at the phone in my hand. “Best go do them while your father’s distracted with that man.”

That man.

There was something ominous about the way she said those two words. As though she couldn’t quite find a nice description of him.

His words from the anniversary party played through my mind. He expected me to be here when he spoke with my father. The arrogance of him. As though I were a puppy that would just sit around waiting for my master to pat his thigh and beckon me to his side for a pat on the head.

“I’m going out,” I announced, unsteady in my decision but determined anyway.

Maryellen pinched her lips together in the motherly way I’d come to appreciate over the years since my own mother died. “Your father said you’re to see that man.”

“I know what he said,” I nodded.

A smile slipped over her lips. “Then you better go before you get sucked into whatever trouble is brewing in his office.” She threw me a wink, then carried off the dishes through the serving door that led to the kitchen.

I sent Maggie my reply

On my way!